


mjnolir’s judgement (are you worthy?)

by pen_light



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Fluff, Gen, Salt And Burn, Thor - Freeform, Witch - Freeform, crack but cool, dean and jack are fanboys, ghost - Freeform, spncanonminibang, thor’s hammer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 07:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15262047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pen_light/pseuds/pen_light
Summary: The witch laughed again, this time it crackling with the thunder in the sky. “You really thought that you, a mortal, could wield the hammer of Thor? In all the years I’ve been, this is perhaps the most funny encounter ever.”Sam’s arms were practically buckling. It didn’t make sense. The hammer wasn’t rejecting his hold, but it wasn’t accepting his call for help. It had urged such a move, but the attempt was a fail. It’s not like the weapon was pulling him to the ground either. Maybe he acted too fast. Or maybe Sam wasn’t strong enough.alt. Team Free Will (2.0) are caught yet again in a strange hunt. This time it’s witchy, electrifying, and Sam’s got Thor’s hammer (again).





	mjnolir’s judgement (are you worthy?)

**Author's Note:**

> hi hi hi it’s me again! 
> 
> here’s my mini bang for the spncanonbigbang! i hope you like it. it’s a little late and not the best due to life’s hectic nature and my reoccurring migraines. 
> 
> i would love to thank my artist, kuwlshadow on tumblr for making a beautiful art piece for this! this link to her art is in the story where it is relevant and right here: http://kuwlshadow.tumblr.com/post/175731014518/title-mjnolirs-judgement-are-you-worthy
> 
> also thank to the challenge mods for understanding and helping me work around my delay. i’m terribly sorry for that. 
> 
> please enjoy!

It had been a quiet day. The gang had just returned from what was supposed to be a quick hunt. It turned out, over the years, certain clans of creatures had taken their time to learn more about the tactics by which they were hunted. Thanks to Jack, Team Free Will was able to subdue the clan, but lord knows what would’ve happened had the kid not been there.

Back at the bunker, Dean and Castiel were tending to smaller matters they had left to the sidelines in the garage. Mary was resting in her room, most probably catching up with her fellow hunters online if she wasn’t sleeping. Sam was walking towards his own room to look for some hunts. In his hands was a half eaten sandwich, one that he did not have the patience to wait until seated to finish.

“Sam?” Jack’s voice called out from down the hallway. The called Winchester stopped his stride and turned his head. He walked towards his room where the nephilim was sitting, criss crossed, on his bed with the television on. The boy was looking at the news channel where the meteorologist was analyzing some graph.

“Yeah? What’s up, Jack?” Sam asked, taking a bite of his sandwich right after.

Jack leaned forward more, seemingly confused at what the lady on TV was saying. Then he turned to Sam. “Is that something to worry about?”

Sam frowned and gave the screen more attention. The channel wasn’t for their local weather. In fact, it wasn’t really a channel for local news. Jack was tuned into a nationwide news source. Sam read the headline, “RECORD BREAKING STORM IN THORSBY”. Paired with the words was a small graph of Alabama with red blotches blinking and moving around. Sam supposed that was representative of the storm. He looked up to check out what the meteorologist was saying, but the channel suddenly moved onto commercials.

Sam couldn’t help but frown. He took a bite of his sandwich.

“You and Dean mentioned once that big, bad storms are signs of angelic or demonic activity. Is that what you meant?” Jack looked up at the hunter with something on the verge of excitement twinkling in his eyes. Sam smiled and gave the kid a pat on the back.

The older gave himself a moment before replying. “Yes, and no. We normally look for more than one sign. Also, given the increase in horrible storms, I doubt that this is supernatural. It probably just a really bad version of natural.”

Jack nodded in understanding. Before he could pose another question, Dean’s voice rang out from the garage.

“Jack? Come over here!”

“Coming!” Jack answered, hopping off of the bed. He gave Sam a quick smile before wandering off into the bunker. The other looked on as the kid made his way out of the room.

He turned to the television. The younger hunter took another heaving bite of his sandwich. There was a brief recap of the weather patterns before switching to more national and political news.

Sam sighed, taking a seat on the bed. He reached for the remote with the intent to switch the channel. But as he was about to, another detail of the storm caught his eye.

“HARSH WINDS, POUNDING RAIN, BOOMING THUNDER, AND NO LIGHTNING.”

With a deepening frown came a horrible feeling. Sam tried his best to shake it off.

It was just climate change, right? Sam tried to reason.

Sam tried to shake the strange feeling off of his shoulders. He changed the channel, settling for the judge show that Castiel tended to get sucked into occasionally.

Another commercial break came and he remembered the real task he was trying to accomplish. Taking his laptop, Sam logged into the police databases he had managed to hack and rig to their benefits over the years. News of the storm came again, this time through alerts.

Sam shook his head. There was nothing but that storm occurring. The numbers were pointing to the natural rather than the supernatural. “Most definitely the climate change,” he whispered, moving on to searching for strange incidents such as out of the place murders. “Nothing ever happens in sweet home Alabama.”

~

The storm continued at the intensity it had been roaring at days before. By this point, Team Free Will had readjusted themselves in the bunker with more direction and concrete tasks to do. Dean was tending to Baby, Castiel was hanging around Jack, telling him stories of Heaven and Earth, and Sam was relaxing with his books and general research. Mary was out with an old hunting friend, catching up. Before she had left, Dean had given her the whole “Tell us if there’s a hunt” talk before sending her off.

“You didn’t tell her not to do anything stupid,” Castiel had commented. It was more of a remark under his breath, but Dean, ever the one to hear the words not directly directed at him, had heard the comment clear as day. To be frank, it wasn’t that subtle for Sam had almost spat out his tea at the statement, hiding the growing giggles behind his hand.

Dean gave him a strange look before turning to Castiel and raising his hands in the air.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You d—“ Castiel took a look at the gleam in Sam’s eyes before backtracking his words. “Never mind.” With that, he left the room.

Dean then sent a look of confusion to Sam before striding off behind Castiel.

Jack turned to Sam. “What was Castiel talking about?”

Sam took in a deep breath and let out a chuckle. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Jack didn’t seem to understand, but rolled with it, ending his end of the conversation with a quick nod.

Silence fell upon them again. There were some footsteps in the background—most probably Dean and Castiel walking around each other—but those stopped as well. Just as they did, however, there was a shout.

“Sam!”

Sam looked up from his book. “Dean?” Jack and him met eyes. With a brief moment to wait for a reply back, he stood up and headed down towards the older hunter’s room, the youngest member of their family hot behind his heels.

Sam paused as he entered the room, assessing the situation. Castiel was leaning over Dean’s shoulder, reading something with sheer confusion. The older hunter was half seated on his bed with his iPad in his hands. All would’ve seemed fine if Sam hadn’t noticed the tension in the angel’s shoulders and the phone discarded to the side.

“What now…” the younger muttered, dragging a chair for Jack and taking his position leaning behind Dean’s other shoulder.

There was a video on the iPad. It seemed like crap shot of a take, most probably shot on an iPhone, Sam reasoned. The camera shook a lot in the first few seconds, as if the cameraperson was shaking or being shaken.

Eventually the camera focused on a woman in the middle of the screen. She was smiling maniacally right into the lens with such intensity that if Sam didn’t know better, he’d think it was directed at him. Next to him, the hunter felt Jack shudder just a tiny bit.

The woman continued to smile as so. Her raven hair was dancing wildly, most probably in the wind. Sam noticed that the wind was incredibly strong, for the camera seemed to be steering along the same direction and patterns as well.

She was wearing tattered, old mid rise jeans with a spaghetti strap top. The fashion was incredibly reminiscent of the early 2000s, especially with the strange shade of yellow for the shirt and the random sequins on the pants. The younger brother was very obviously cringing.

The woman continued to look into the lens, her pale skin flickering, practically translucent. She began to chant, closing her haunting eyes, and raised her arms into the sky. A sickly green glowed from her fingertips and into her arms. She looked up with glowing green eyes as her chants turned into shouts. There was a scream from behind the camera and a roar in the sky. In the background, evidence of a worsening storm was seen through trees bending almost all the way over. Some trees’ roots gave way, falling completely on their side and rolling with the gusts.

“Those hunters we met at our last hunt sent it to us. Cas and I were talking when I saw it,” Dean looked over his shoulder. “I know this is a viral video, but it can’t be movie effects, can it?”

“I told him no, but he’s still skeptical,” Castiel grumbled.

“Yeah, no, Castiel is right,” Sam commented. He reached forward to zoom into the screen and toggled with the feature to get a better look at the angles. “I could try tracing it back…”

“Dude, we’re given an address and everything,” Dean said, scrolling to the description of the video and pressing on the words to highlight the address.

Sam looked at Castiel only to receive a shrug as a response.

Jack leaned forward, bumping shoulders with Dean. “What does she want? If she sent that, she must want something.”

Dean glanced at Jack and then Castiel. Castiel sighed and reached forward to press play.

Before paying attention to the screen again, Jack leaned back to tell Sam, “I learned that from that TV show you told me to watch, Criminal Minds?”

Sam grinned, patting the boy on the back.

The lady cackled, her bleached skin wrinkling with the laugh. She seemed pleased in herself, so much so that she performed a small dance for the camera before turning around and pointing at the sky. The action caused the storm to immediately intensify. The wind circled and blew harder and harder. The rain was practically waves crashing down on the town. The thunder was so loud and shaking that the speakers on the iPad spazzed out, unable to play the intensity of the sounds.

“A witch?” Sam wondered out loud, finally putting it all together.

Dean nodded with a set jaw. “Seems like it.”

The witch turned to the camera yet again. “This storm is beautiful, isn’t it? Rendering us all at the mercy of the might forces all around. But, it’s missing something, isn’t it?”

Sam knew what it was but Jack answered the question for them all.

“Lightning,” the small boy whispered. Right then, the witch’s gaze turned to the side, almost as if she were looking at Jack, responding to his statement directly.

“Yes,” she spoke slowly and sweetly. “If you guessed lightning, you are then correct. Such a bright, young mind you have.”

Dean and Sam shared a look. Sam moved closer to Jack.

The woman’s eyes turned to Sam, her smirk falling slightly. It become more of a scowl with a hint of smugness behind it, and, instead of feeling the chills, Sam was irritated.

“I have but one demand. As you may have noticed, everything in this video is under my control. It is my perfect reality, one that is slowly becoming yours.” She twirled around, arms outstretched, nothing but awe for her work. Sam shook his head.

“But I’m missing the keystone. I’m missing the one thing that I have always wanted. When I visited the auctioneer, I was saddened to hear that, one, the auctions were over, and, two, someone had taken, not paid for, but taken in the sense of stolen, my precious item.”

Just get on it with it, Sam thought sourly.

“The Hammer of Thor, Mjlonir. That is my demand. I have been told that it is in the possession of a man named Mr. Sam Winchester,” She looked straight at Sam. The tension in the room thickened. “Bring me the hammer to the details posted in the description. If the hammer is not brought to me by then, then this town, Thorsby, an innocent place, will be swept away from the face of the Earth.” A rather loud gust of wind blew. “Quite literally.” Then she looked past the camera, most probably at the cameraman. She raised her hands and gave a little clap. There was a small scream, a crack, and a thud as the camera immediately fell to the ground. A limp hand showed in front of the lens, the focusing rearranging to that. In the background, the blurry image of the witch practically floated away.

Then the screen went blank.

“But… we don’t have the hammer, right?” Jack looked around.

“No, but Sam does.” Dean answered.

“He does?” Jack seemed genuinely surprised. “But, you can’t lift it, right?”

Dean pointed back with a ghost of a goofy smile. “Don’t worry kid, he can. He also used it once, too.”

“Really?” Jack’s eyes were saucers.

Sam rolled his eyes. “You could too Dean, if you tried.”

Castiel squinted. “I doubt it’d be an efficient weapon.”

“It’s very powerful, Castiel,” Jack explained. “It can summon lightning.”

“Also lets you fly,” Dean mentioned. The anger for the witch was slowly dissipating as the joy in teasing Sam and Castiel began to replace it.

Castiel looked at Sam for help.

Sam sighed, massaging his temples and shaking his head. “You and I need to have another Netflix night. And as for Dean…” he glared at his older brother. “Help me open the vault where the hammer is.”

Jack jumped up, beginning to talk something about Thor and the hammer and the movies. Dean happily joined in the discussion as he led the way.

“I can never tell how we’re to find time for anything around here,” Castiel mumbled, ever so grumpy.

Sam chuckled sadly and threw his arm around the angel’s shoulders as they followed the two fanboys ahead.

~

Sam unlocked the weapons vault. In the bunker, they had multiple storage areas for their arsenal, but there was one certain one where the ancient of ancient artifacts were stored. There was barely anything in this vault, however. Just a few incredibly rare ingredients for spells, a few notebooks full of notes in languages unknown, other rare weapons, and the hammer of Thor.

Sam led the way, heading straight for the tabletop on which the hammer was placed. Dean and Jack followed close by, eager to see the hammer. For Jack, it was a first time thing. For Dean, well, the older hunter never found the time to visit the hammer and try it out for himself.

Sam turned to see the excited, intrigued faces and sighed with a smile. “Please tell me you’re not going to make me carry the thing the entire time.”

Jack and Dean shared a look. “Who else can, though?” The youngest commented.

Sam looked over Dean’s shoulder back to Castiel who was half paying attention, half looking at the titles of the notebooks and books in the shelves.

“Cas, a little back up here?” He called out, hoping the angel will take his side.

Castiel looked up. His gaze flitted from between Dean, Jack, and Sam a few times before he walked up to the hammer. Cocking his head to the side, Castiel looked at Sam one more time before turning to walk to a position right next to Dean. The angel looked at Sam unapologetically.

“I think you should carry it out for now. It is an ancient weapon. If it’s known to react to you and you’ve used it before, we shouldn’t risk that level of trust with a magical weapon with another person.”

Sam sighed. Dean laughed, giving Castiel a hard pat on the back.

“Good call, Cas,” Dean ushered the angelic beings out of the room. “We’ll have our fun after this witch hunt.”

Sam glared at the back of his brother’s head.

Once again, Castiel groaned in exasperation. “I still do not understand why you’re so happy about this. Don’t you hate witches?”

“Yes, I do,” Dean mentioned. “But I love Thor, and I’ve learned an appreciation for that type of magic.”

Jack turned to Sam as they moved out of the room. “After this hunt, can I try to pick it up?”

“You can try it now.”

Giving it consideration, Jack stepped back a bit. The hammer was quite menacing. It even looked heavy in Sam’s light grip. “I think I’ll pass on that offer.”

Sam simply looked away.

~

With Mjolnir and beer on the war table, it was time for a game plan. Dean claimed their best bet was to bait the witch.

“How? She’s a witch, she’s probably got precautions,” Sam argued.

Dean threw a thumb in Jack’s direction. “Yeah, but most probably not against a Nephilim. Not to mention, Cas is pretty good at sensing hinky magic.”

Castiel shrugged, not necessarily agreeing with the sentiment but not arguing either.

Sam clicked his tongue, thinking the idea over. It wasn’t necessarily the worst idea ever. But it didn’t seem to be the worst either. Sam looked at Jack for a comment.

“Doesn’t that seem a little easy? For such a hunt?” The kid asked worryingly.

Castiel shrugged. “We can prepare for the worst, but sometimes the ‘easy way’ works.”

Dean shot a finger gun towards Castiel. “Exactly. So, Game on?”

Sam looked at the hammer. “Yeah,” he said. He grabbed the hilt. “Game on.”

~

The four of them arrived in Thorsby, tools ready, plan mostly made. Dean and Sam walked around town with their witch killing bullets, while Castiel and Jack were armed with angel blades. The hammer was kept safely in an extra warded box in the back of the Impala—for it’s never a bad idea to be too precautious.

Thorsby was a quiet, aesthetically ancient town—incredibly typical for supernatural activity. Sam took a moment to ponder over this, reconsidering just how supernatural the town could actually be.

Whilst driving around, Dean had grumbled slightly (a little more than usual as the windy roads had started to irk him a while before they reached town). “‘Nothing ever happens in Thorsby? This place is just asking to be supernaturally pegged.”

As per their own norm, the boys stopped by at a diner. It was a staple diner from the 80s, a restaurant in a metal box ordained with neon signs. Inside, the bright shades of red, yellow, and green were dull and bland. Even the tiles had lock their lackluster. Sam made a face at the grime that was very noisily sticking to his boots. Dean made a smile at the same detail.

The sofas weren’t the most comfortable either. Castiel and Jack took their places near the window, and the brothers on the edge. Meals were ordered, faces were stuffed, and food was enjoyed. Details were discussed and locals were interviewed. With the cover of strange phenomenon researchers, the boys managed to get some answers about the one place where there would be the most knowledge of the town’s history. An old house just around the corner next to the town’s graveyard was the most popular suggestion. The man most known for his experience and knowledge of the town was present there.

“I say we pay it a visit,” Sam reasoned as he adjusted his collar. The four of them were back in the Impala. “We don’t have to meet with the witch until later.”

Dean looked back, inspecting the storm. It was notably less than what was in the video, but it was still unusually terrible and strong. “First a motel, and then the house.”

And so it was agreed.

~

The old house was one with the classic off white, chipped away sidings. the windows were lined with dark strips of black wood which was also cracking in areas to reveal the old, dried up, light wood in the middle.

They were welcomed quite wonderfully by the town’s old man. Mr. O’Mally was his name, and he was quite frail and soft spoken. As Dean and Sam left with Mr. O’Mally to discuss certain details, Castiel and Jack were left behind to read some books and look at the pictures.

A few books skimmed in, the angel turned his attention to the pictures on the walls and the tabletops. Castiel frowned, scanning the pictures on the walls some more. There was something off about the images. They didn’t seem right, which was causing his angelic senses to tingle. Of course, it could also just be him, so the angel turned to the younger.

“Jack?” The nephilim turned around at the hushed call. Castiel motioned for him to come over and the boy strode over. “Does anything seem strange about these images?”

Jack cocked his head and reached forward. Castiel was quick to stop. “No, no. Just feel it.”

Nodding the boy closed his eyes and took in a breath. Castiel was right, there was something off with the picture. Like the waves of the world were contorted right around those pictures. In fact, the strange natural patterns seemed to be disrupted all around.

“Castiel,” Jack muttered. “I think this entire place is strange.” He opened his eyes. “Could it be because of the graveyard nearby?”

Castiel looked out the window at the grave stones. “While that’s a possibility, I’ve never seen or heard of such potent variances in the natural order.”

Jack followed his gaze. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Okay, we’re done here,” Dean called out, stepping in between the celestial session. “We good to go?” Sam joined in the circle as well.

Castiel threw a look behind to the old man at the other end of the room. “Yes,” he replied, trying to read the man’s energy. The attempt was a dead end for the elder man was hardly plagued by the discrepancies at all. He then turned to join the others on their walk to Baby.

“That was certainly strange.” Castiel commented, crouching to fit into the Impala. Dean snorted.

“It’s a witchy town. There’s bound to be strangeness around.”

Jack leaned forward. “Did you find anything?”

Sam shook his head. “O’Malley is just as confused as everyone.” Jack let out an “Ah.” and leaned back in his seat.

Castiel continued to frown. He looked out the window. He just couldn’t shake off the disrupted energies from his mind. “Are we sure it’s a witch?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, locking eyes with the angel for a moment through the rear mirror.

“I—“ Castiel started only to stop. “Never mind.”

Dean and Sam shared a look. And then a beat. “Alright then.” The older switched the gear shift into drive. “Whatever it is, we’re meeting up with it soon with the goddamn hammer in our hands.” He paused. “Well, in Sammy’s hands.”

Sam rolled his eyes. Jack let out a small smile in excitement.

~

They arrived at the open, barren, dead field that had been noted in the description of the viral video. With a dark backdrop and powerful winds, the open space was certainly looking as a doomed area.

“I don’t want to be one for stereotypes,” Dean muttered. “But this is definitely some witchy area.” He readjusted the gun hidden under his belt.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure if that’s what I’d call it.”

Dean made a face. “Of course, that’s what you’d call it. Right, Cas?”

Castiel cocked his head to the side, following the motion with a disapproving shake of the head. Dean rolled his eyes and turned to Jack only to receive a confused yet reassuring shrug. The boy then looked at the hammer, his gaze lingering just a bit.

“Kid, do you want to hold the hammer?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows, a challenge to say ‘no’.

Jack looked at Dean with big eyes. “What if I’m not worthy?”

Sam opened his mouth to rebuke the notion, but Dean was quick to do the opposite. “Damn, you’re right. Say what, you and I will contest for it from Sammy’s possession after this hunt. There’s got to be a reason he’s so worthy.”

Sam turned to Castiel, bitch face full on. Castiel gave the hunter a quick pat on the shoulder before moving ahead. “I will be able to provide proper comfort after another Netflix session, as you noted before.”

Sam rubbed his face in exasperation. Dean pumped an excited fist in the air, cheering on the wonderful members of the team.

“Might as well just accept my death with the biggest idiots in the galaxy,” The younger brother muttered.

Dean nudged Sam with his toes. “Heard that, Mr. Marvel.”

“Good.”

The winds picked up, a scream echoing in the air. It wasn't from a human, but from the actual weather itself. The dark sky darkened.

“I think she’s here,” Jack mentioned. Dean moved his head slightly back and looked forward again, nodding.

“Thanks, Sherlock,” he commented, rolling his shoulders back to release the sudden tension. At the same time he dug his heels into the ground, trying to strengthen his base.

“Where is she, though?” Sam asked. His forearm was blocking the winds from his eyes. The effort wasn’t that effective in clearing the vision.

“I don’t know Watson, let’s ask,” Dean continued. Castiel shot a look.

“Welcome,” A voice boomed. “Have you brought my hammer?”

Dean and Sam shared a glance before the younger tried to move forward. At this, the winds actually softened, easing basically everything.

The witch glimmered briefly, a jolt of excitement seeming to overtake her as she laid her eyes on the might weapon.

There was certainly something unsettling about that.

“Castiel? She doesn’t seem like Rowena,” Jack said, moving closer to the angel. Castiel’s face hardened.

The angel squinted and tried to connect the dots. Yes, she wasn’t along the same energy patterns as Rowena. That was a fact. But she wasn’t that far off either. It was as if she was… a form reminiscent of dead energy. An energy that was seeping from a place of death—like a graveyard. Castiel’s mind stopped at the revelation.

“That’s because she’s not Rowena,” He said quickly, pushing the blade from his coat sleeve.

Dean, having not heard the discussion and conclusion, shot the youngest a curt nod. “Jack now!”

Castiel stepped forward. “No wait!”

Not hearing Castiel’s cry, Jack outstretched his arm and pushed his hand out. With a set jaw, the boy summoned his energy and shot rings of power towards the witch. The golden magic floated through the air but wavered greatly, the winds highly affecting the vibes. Jack yelled, producing a larger wave of energy that successful captured the witch.

Upon seeing this, Sam and Dean immediately raised their guns and aimed for the witch with an angle that ensured the guidance of Jack’s tunnel energy. The bullets shot and almost curved before being drawn in by the golden vacuum.

The witch let out an ear splitting shriek once the bullets came in contact with her body. Four bullets later, Jack relented, stumbling back to catch himself from a windy fall. The two hunters lowered their weapons, moving back towards the Impala slowly. As the witch’s body fell to the ground, the winds began to burn out to the intensity of a normal summer thunderstorm.

“Did it work?” Jack panted, taking Castiel’s outstretched hand. Castiel looked over, the blade rotating in his tense grip.

“Hopefully,” he muttered.

Dean and Sam began to take larger steps back until they had joined the other half of their team. Sam beelined for the trunk of the Impala, ready to store the hammer. Dean gave Castiel a clap on the back and threw Jack a big smile.

“Good job there kid,” he commented with a quick finger gun. He turned to the angel. “What were you about to say?”

Castiel shook his head and looked over his shoulder, expecting to see the dead body of the witch. His eyes widened as he saw a floating apparition, transformed to a more classic witchy look. The apparition was of the same girl, only now with a ripped up nightgown that was floating in each direction slowly, opposite of everything else in the storm. A sick smile was plastered to her battered, bloody face. She remained there, unmoving.

“Cas, what the hell?!” Dean asked. He pushed the angel to the side and raised his gun in defense.

“She’s a ghost, Dean!” Castiel exclaimed, shielding his face from the random gusts of wind. “The guns won’t work!”

“A ghost with witch abilities?”

“It seems so!” The angel answered, stumbling as the storm picked up speed instantly.

Dean grumbled curses under his breath, copying Castiel’s movements. Ghosts and witches they’ve dealt with. But a witch ghost was a new hybrid to them. Actually a new possibility in general.

“What do we do?!”

“The graveyard?” Jack suggested with a shout. “She’s a witch but mainly a ghost, right?”

Dean gave the suggestion a once over before looking back at Jack. The kid was barely standing still in the gusts with support from the Impala. Sam peeked from behind the car, large, heavy footsteps trying to maneuver to the front of the battle. Dean caught a glimpse of the hammer, a salty shotgun, and their grave killing bag. Understanding the notion behind the objects, Dean grabbed Castiel and pulled him back, turning to make sure to not lose site of the witch.

“Kid! You’re going to have to zap us to the graveyard!” Dean yelled once, still holding onto Castiel.

Jack nodded, outstretching his hands to Dean and Sam.

Sam, cocking a shotgun shook his head. “I’ll hold her off! You just hurry!”

And with a shot of salt, the three were flapped away.

~

The flight to the graveyard was bumpy and rough to say at the least. The boys landed promptly on their faces, scrubbing up their joints as they rolled about in the wind and grass. Hands planted in the ground and gripping on the grass, it took a few moments for each member to recalibrate themselves.

Dean was the first to get up, quickly stretching an arm for Castiel. With a strong heave, the angel flew off of the ground and almost stumbled over again. Dean was quick to bracket his other arm to stop Castiel’s fall. He then looked around for Jack to provide the same aid. “Okay, kid, we’re goin—“

Castiel looked around for Jack as well, interrupting Dean when he noticed the kid’s absence. “Jack?”

“Dammit, he flew to Sam,” Dean wiped his face. He remained close to Castiel incase the storm got to anyone of them. “Right, okay, um. We’ve got to find her grave, right?”

Castiel turned and squinted to see the graveyard. The winds were throwing blades of grass and dirt everywhere, practically making the visibility zero.

“There was no name on the pictures on the wall that Jack and I saw, but there was a strange energy to them. And this entire place,” Castiel mentioned, following Dean into the cemetery.

“In this storm, it’s going to take too much time to investigate the house again,” Dean replied. He waved at the dirt clouds coming at their way. “Can you try to track that energy again?”

Castiel took in a deep breath in an effort to channel the energies around the plot. The witch’s magic was surrounding the entire area, engulfing and overwhelming the angel’s senses. Castiel frowned and tried to get a grip, but his grace kept slipping as he did so.

“She’s everywhere, but there’s got to be a source,” the angel reasoned, quickening his pace.

Dean heaved the bag over his shoulder and hummed in agreement. “Alright, let’s quickly run through this graveyard. It’s got to be here somewhere.”

“Hopefully.”

~

The witch’s smile widened. She looked at Sam and cocked her head to the side, turning the expression from eerie to an annoying coy. “I’m not worried about the grave,” Her gravely voice spoke. The words surprisingly traveled smoothly through the storm. “If I was able to come back as a ghost with witch abilities, what do you think my grave is going to be like?”

Sam gritted his teeth. His grips on the hammer and shotgun tightened. With the sounds of flaps of wings, Jack reappeared behind him. “Jack?”

“Dean and Castiel are at the grave,” he answered, walking past Sam, hands raised.

“Jack, no!”

The nephilim directed a large blast of energy to the witch. It’s instantly deflected, but still leave behind a disorienting effect. Just as this happens, the storm intensified.

Sam looked around. Jack tried again, this time disorienting the witch even more. The kid smiled at his developing victories and stepped forward to deliver more. Sam grunted at the painful winds.

“Jack no!” He shouted. “Your powers are increasing her strength.”

Jack stilled, looking at Sam strange. “But she’s a ghost.” Right then, the awareness of the stronger storm hit him quite literally as a gust threw him back a few feet.

Sam jumped forward, catching the kid before he was blown away even more. “She’s also a witch. She’s probably got a spell against such powers.”

The witch’s refocused eyes turned eerily towards Sam and Jack. The smile returned with a classic, spine chilling cackle.

“That was cute. And smart,” she chortled, floating towards the boys. “But that’s enough games. Now give me the hammer.”

~

Castiel honed down on a rather painfully energized grave, directing Dean to the site. It was dead center in the plot. Strangely, it was the only grave with no adverse effects caused by the gales.

“Can she be any more obvious?” Dean muttered, shoving the bag off of his shoulder.

Castiel looked at the grave funny. “Her casket is out of the ground.”

Dean shoved a bottle of salt in Castiel’s hands. “Weird, but not the most important detail right now. Probably some ritual crap.”

Not arguing with the sentiment, the angel ripped open the salt container and began to pour it all over the casket. Dean followed behind with the gasoline, coughing a bit at the sudden stench when the cap was first cracked open.

“Alright, let’s light em’ up,” Dean said, flipping his lighter open with the flick of his hand. Castiel moved back and tossed the salt container to the side.

As the small flame came in contact with the gasoline, there was an explosion of flames. Dean shielded his eyes, cracking them open to see the red blazes dance in the wind. The flames rose and rose and rose, higher than any Dean had ever seen.

“What the f—“

And then they went out.

Castiel looked at the blank expanse where the flames had just been. And then at the perfectly safe casket.

“Dean?”

The hunter looked at the angel. “Shit.”

~

The sudden, abrupt demand for the hammer heightened Sam’s attention of the object. All the physical sensations intensified. The weight of the weapon suddenly grew heavier. The metal was cold, and with every movement against and with the winds, the chill grew even more. There was the slightly shake at the hilt, and whether it be due to the gales or Sam’s own shakiness, the hunter couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Just that the vibrations were very seriously impacting his grip and tiring his arm out. Sam attempted to mask his newfound feelings with a readjustment of his weight and strength. He ended up dropping his shotgun.

The witch noticed this discomfort in Sam. She smiled evilly, another laugh on her lips. “It does not respond to you, eh?”

Sam tightened his grip on the weapon. The thrum increased, completely convulsing the rest of his arm. Magically, the discomfort began to transform into some form of muscle movement—as if the hammer were controlling the hunter. “I’m not sure,” he ground out through clenched teeth. Why don’t we find out?” In an incredibly valiant stature (and completely out of character, Sam thought), the hunter heaved it up, arms struggling in keep the hammer outstretched to the sky.

Jack watched on with wide eyes, his gaze never leaving Sam. The witch stilled, a coy, curious look in her eyes.

Nothing happened for a moment. The winds of the storm roared, dancing to what seemed like the witch’s control. This only inflated her ego.

The witch laughed again, this time it crackling with the thunder in the sky. “You really thought that you, a mortal, could wield the hammer of Thor? In all the years I’ve been, this is perhaps the most funny encounter ever.”

Sam’s arms were practically buckling. It didn’t make sense. The hammer wasn’t rejecting his hold, but it wasn’t accepting his call for help. It had urged such a move, but the attempt was a fail. It’s not like the weapon was pulling him to the ground either. Maybe he acted too fast. Or maybe Sam wasn’t strong enough.

“Sam!” Jack exclaimed. Remembering advice from Castiel with dealing with grace, Jack yelled slowly, hoping that Sam would hear it through the roars of the storm. “You have to think of the power through yourself, not through the hammer!”

Sam made a face. That’s not how he had used the hammer back in the auction, was it? Well, to be frank, he hadn’t really thought when he used the hammer then. It was more of a swing with lightning peppered in.

“Stand back!” Sam yelled back, readjusting himself. The witch smiled, beginning to float towards the hunter.

“It is futile to try again, mortal.”

Sam gulped and closed his eyes. At the side, Jack outstretched his arm to reign the witch back.

Thinking of lightning, Sam allowed the weight of the hammer to settle in his muscles. The strain of holding the iron up was cramping up the bridge of his hand, but, when he tried to let go of the hammer just a bit, he found himself unable to. Sam took in deep breaths and pushed forward into that pain, creating an entrance for the hammer. He suddenly began to think of the feeling of magic thrumming through himself like when he conducts spells. It’s minimal at that moment, but the sizzle existed.

He focused on that feeling.

Thunder cracked. And the hammer began to shake.

The witch’s face broke. She froze, stopping her protests against Jack’s power. The nephilim frowned and looked to Sam, almost dropping his own power. The younger’s face softened with awe, his jaw dropping in the process.

Sam grunted at how much his body was shaking. The hammer was still dormant, but, upon close inspection, one could see the runes begin to light up. One by one, the symbols glowed a beautiful blue tinted white.

Causally, the wind began to circle around Sam, creating a vacuum centered with him. Sam looked up with some difficulty. But then, his eyes widened as he noticed the branches of light jumped ecstatically in the sky.

They were delightful. The bright streaks flashed and danced, never once reappearing in the form they had before. Spots twirled in Sam’s vision, giving the entire experience a hazy light.

“Sam!” Someone tried to say. “Use the hammer to aim the lightning!”

Sam, still mesmerized by lightning, took a pause of a blink or two for the words to register in his head. “Huh?” He shook his head. “Oh, right,” He said, scrambling to pull the hammer down. “On it!”

Pulling on the hammer resulting in Sam almost throwing his arm off. He pulled far too strongly than needed. The hammer was hardly even a fraction of its weight from moments before. Sam smiled. The power had finally begun to hum through him. It was intense, but exhilarating as well. He spun the hammer in his hands once to try it out.

“Sweet,” he chuckled, out of breath. He looked at the witch. And he aimed.

A large lightning bolt cracked down on her. It was a freeze frame moment—the light striking and exploding into darkness. The witch screamed in agony, her ghostly figure contorting in the light. A pulse run through the fields, taking up about half of the destructive winds.

Jack clapped in glee. He then started to walk forward to approach Sam, only to pause to tune into the radio in his head. A beat later, he nodded at Castiel’s words, and stepped forward quickly and tapped an exhausted, thriller, crazed Sam’s shoulder.

“We need to go to the grave,” Jack spoke, somehow speaking past his freak out at the hunter’s glowing, lightning eyes.

Sam nodded without any question. He reigned the hammer in and clutched onto Jack. Within moments, the two were stumbling across a pile of dirt, not quite falling on their faces as the first party had before.

“Jack!” Castiel called out, motioning towards the pristine casket and grave. “Sa—“ The angel straightened out, cocking his head to the side as Sam strode over strongly. “Sam?”

“Are they here, Cas?” Dean asked, popping out from a spot he was inspecting. “Ask them what happened to the witch and the win…” His words were lost as his vision fell upon his glowing younger brother. “…winds.”

Sam, running an extreme high on adrenaline and magic, boldly and easily walked past the still relatively strong winds. He borderline glowing. Ignoring the shocked looks on his brothers’ faces, Sam wasted no time and pointed the hammer to the grave to shoot another bolt of lightning. Just as before, a flash erupted from the sky and fell upon the casket. Immediately, the grave exploded and began to turn into dust.

The witch, whose magic was tied to the grave, was redirected to their location. Her already destroyed, burnt, and dying apparition body writhed in the intense light and heat. She screamed and reached at the boys, throwing chants and spells everywhere, never coherently finishing a line. She even tried to grab onto the hammer, but, with each second, the lightning at her grave slowly and excruciatingly diminished and destroyed her power.

Sam pushed forward for the home stretch, face contorting as his body suddenly began to lose its own energy. The final blast was running array through his figure, losing its own control as well. Exhaustion creeped over Sam, causing his grip to loosen.

Castiel, a little sober led up from his shock, noticed this moment of weakness and rushed to help. Grabbing onto the salt and gasoline, he directed the others to help with the final burn. Dean was quick to his feet, throwing a salt jar to Jack and the lighter to Castiel. The three leapt forward to make one final coat of salt and fuel before the second lighter was thrown in.

The witch, barely hanging onto her magic, locked eyes with Castiel. With Dean and Jack away from the scene, the angel returned a last cold, hard stare before flicking the flame and tossing it in the grave.

The resulting scream was mind splitting. There was a strong, booming pulse from the grave. Jack, Dean, and Castiel clutched their heads and ground their heels, all three tensing up in defense.

The magic in the hammer protected Sam from this shriek and its resulting power surge. As the other three took temporary cover, the enchanted Winchester jerked his arm up, sending the remaining lightning in himself to the sky. The bolts branched out and reached across the clouds, following the pulse from the grave and quickly clearing the storm with them. And just like that, the dark sky began to give way for the the light and sun peaking out.

Dean, Jack, and Castiel cracked their eyes open. They sighed in relief in unison at the site of the ashes of the witch’s grave. Right in front of them, Sam took in deep breath and fell to his knees. Castiel was quick to facilitate the fall, giving the younger a smile as he did so.

No one said anything for a moment. Then, Dean looked at Jack.

“So, Sam was worthy, after all,” Dean laughed, bumping fists with the kid.

Jack grinned. “It’s wasn’t so much the hammer as it was Sam. The power was in him all along. Just like Thor.”

Castiel gave the a confused and desperate look at Sam.

“Cas… tonight…” Sam mumbled out. The angel nodded and readjusting his hold to help the hunter walk forward. Dean stepped forward, but Castiel waved him away, motioning to the equipment on the ground. Catching on, Dean and Jack shifted to pick the materials up. As Sam and Castiel walked towards Baby with the two fanboys in lead, Sam didn’t let go of the surprisingly light hammer. It didn’t feel right.

“We can do later, Sam,” Castiel replied happily. He then threw a concerned glance to the hunter. “You need to rest. Humans aren’t meant to sustain such celestial and magical energy at once.”

Dean’s head snapped back. “What do you mean?”

Castiel waved his hand again, this time a little lighter. “It’s nothing serious. Sam just needs to, as you say, ‘sleep on it’.”

Dean gave Sam a once over. Shrugging, the older hunter turned back around and threw back a hands up. “We all deserve some sleep. First thing to do when we get home.”

“Or in Baby,” Sam noted. Castiel and Jack snickered. Dean glared.

“Baby _is_ home, Mr. Worthy.”

“Shut up.”

~

 

 

 

 

 

(Eventually, the three of them did find time to catch Castiel up on the Thor comic and cinematic universe. With a beer filled move night, the four of them lounged around in their pajamas (stripped down versions of their daily outfits), and laughed and argued over the movies and the characters.

Along the marathon, Sam couldn’t help but smile in relief at the lack of jabs and teases directed towards him for his wielding of Thor’s hammer. Jack and Dean were their normal, giddy fanboy selves. Castiel was slowing being dragged into the Marvel universe on a fan level.

It was just an enjoyable time with minimal annoyances and threats.

And Sam was grateful for that.

Waiting for such a needed movie night was definitely _worth(y)_ it.)

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked that mess lol rip 
> 
> visit me on tumblr @ epeolatrii.tumblr.com


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